


but now we're through, so we'll go on shore

by starryvin



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassin's Creed Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5712337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryvin/pseuds/starryvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shay has been mulling over his dark thoughts by himself for long enough.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Fill to a prompt: http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=12277614#cmt12277614</p>
            </blockquote>





	but now we're through, so we'll go on shore

Winter was so cold here in the North. Shay loathed to admit it to himself, but he definitely should have accepted that pair of mittens Gist had tried to offer him earlier.

But far be it that he would also admit it to the man, who had laughed at him when he had declined and had said that he would regret that soon enough. And how had he been supposed to know it was going to get this cold and windy?

His bastard of a first mate was now blowing air into his (mitten-covered) palms, rubbing them together for warmth, while Colonel Monro had already retired under the deck, into the captain's cabin to write some letters. Shay envied them both immensely. The viciously blowing wind forced him to keep his hands tightly on the wheel, and his fingers were protesting.

Gist gave him a sideways glance.

”I could take over,” he said. ”If, perchance, your fingers were on the brink of freezing off.”

Shay felt his face flush red. Hopefully it would not show from behind his hood, or the red already there because of the cold.

”I'm alright,” he said, and Gist fell quiet, inching closer to him.

”I am being serious, Shay,” the man said and placed a hand on Shay's shoulder. ”You're no help to any of us if you lose all your fingers to frostbites.”

Shay considered telling the man to jump off his ship or something. The cold all around him, coupled with how badly he had slept last night, was making him so irritated. But then, it was not Gist's fault that he was an idiot, was it? He let his shoulders drop.

”Maybe the colonel needs help with the letters,” he said. ”I'll be in the cabin for a while.” Gist gave him a tentative smile, possibly trying not to look smug. Shay appreciated the attempt.

He didn't bother with the stairs, instead climbing over the railing in front of him and dropping down in front of the cabin door. He knocked before entering, mainly just to let the colonel know that someone was coming in, and pulled the door open.

”Colonel,” he greeted with a bow of his head as Monro looked up from the papers.

”Master Cormac,” he said, setting his quill down and getting up. ”Is something wrong?”

”No,” Shay said hastily, shutting the door behind him. The cabin probably was not really all that warm, but even the refuge from the freezing wind was enough to make it feel heavenly. He pulled off his gloves and tucked his hands into his sleeves, touching his considerably warmer wrist. ”Gist took over for a while.”

There was something passing over Monro's face: amusement, probably, Shay though sourly. He must have heard the conversation he had had with Gist about mittens, too. Shay braced himself for a ”told you so”, but it never came. Instead, Monro walked around the table and lightly touched his arm.

”Your fingers must be freezing. Here, let me help.” He coaxed Shay to pull his hands out of his sleeves and took them in his, gently examining them. Shay felt his face burn again and as Monro brough their hands in front of his mouth, breathing warmth into them, he felt his stomach twist itself into thousands of knots. Monro did not seem to notice, or if he did, he did not comment on it. He simply closed his hands around Shay's and pulled him towards the bed.

”You should get your cold coat off,” he said and pushed Shay down on the bed.

”You don't need to,” Shay started, but Monro put a finger on his lips before fishing a wollen blanket from the foot of the bed.

”It would be very rude of me to simply turn back to my work,” he said. ”I have, after all, been down here for most of the day, while you, Gist, and all the other crew members have been working in the cold.” He set the blanket in Shay's lap and his hands came up to unclasp the coat, but Shay swatted them away as gently as he could in his sudden panic. Warming his hands up was one thing, leading him to the bed was already a little more concerning, but undressing him would probably just result in a very awkward reaction from him. He could hardly afford to antagonize Monro, out of all people.

Monro didn't seem to mind. He took the blanket again and draped it over Shay's shoulders when he got the coat off.

”I am not that cold,” Shay muttered. ”I'll just warm up my fingers and then go back.”

Monro gave him a fatherly smile and a nod, and turned around, walking back to the table and sitting down. They fell into a comfortable silence, and Shay quickly found himself yawning, calmed by the warmth of the blanket and the quiet scratching of the quill against the paper. He distracted himself from his fatigue by regarding Monro carefully, watching his arm move as he wrote, his brow furrow occasionally. There were no sudden pauses, no reactions hinting about mistakes, no long periods of trying to come up with the proper word. The colonel was working calmly and steadily, not fast but methodically and attentively. It was hypnotic to look at.

The person Shay had been for so long before meeting the colonel would not have been able to appreciate this. He would have scoffed, and made a joke, and shot up from the bed, running up to the deck in search of something to distract him from the orderly and the silent. Liam had always trailed behind him, trying to hold him back, but he had been so difficult to reason with.

His mood took the turn for blacker when the thought of Liam did not simply pass through his mind but instead remained. He had tried to avoid thinking about the man so much, damn it, but recently he had taken over Shay's thoughts again, rendering him sleepless on many a night. And why now? Even the wound from the bullet had stopped aching. He had honestly thought he could live the rest of his life without paying any more than fleeting thought–

”Master Cormac?”

”Yes?” he answered fast, snapping upright. Colonel Monro had turned his chair towards the bed and was looking at him, concern filling his expression.

”You looked very troubled. May I ask what you were thinking about?”

Shay did consider telling him the truth. But rational thought won over quickly. As fatherly and nursing as Monro had been towards him, he doubted he would appreciate getting pulled into his personal issues. Hell, even he himself didn't want to be pulled into them.

”Nothing, Colonel,” he said, offering a smile to make up for the frown that had found its way onto his face. ”I was just... It's pretty cold up here. In the North, I mean.” It was a rather lame attempt, but at least it might discourage Monro from pursuing the matter.

The colonel watched him quietly for a moment, and then stood, walking over to the bed with long strides. He sat down next to Shay and draped his arm over Shay's shoulders.

”Shay, I care for you deeply,” he said, and Shay could not turn his gaze away from the man's pale eyes, staring intensely into his. ”You do not need to conceal your thoughts from me. I can clearly see that you are troubled by something when you barely even sleep.” His gaze softened and he pulled Shay a little closer.

Shay fought a short battle against the tightness in his chest and throat, trying to banish it, but he had no chance of success when Monro was looking at him so gently, his mind highlighting the contrast between this and the constant bouts of a terrible feeling of rejection his life had consisted of prior to meeting Colonel George Monro. He clenched his jaw in the final attempt to keep himself in check, but it was no good.

Monro drew him into his embrace as he averted his eyes and curled up into himself, trying not to be so pathetic. He clung to the man, resting his chin on his shoulder. The blanket fell off as he moved, but its warmth would have been secondary to Monro's either way. It was not much of a loss.

They stayed there for a long time, until Shay had gotten his breathing under his control again. Until Monro picked up the blanket again and pulled away from him to drape it over his shoulders again, a gentle smile on his lips as he brushed Shay's unravelled hair out of his eyes.

”Sleep now, Master Cormac,” he said. ”I'm sure Gist will not mind taking care of the Morrígan while you regain your peace.”

”Thank you, Colonel,” Shay croaked out, half-ashamed of how hoarse his voice had suddenly gotten. Monro simply smiled and gently pushed him down to lay on the bed, pecking him gently on the lips before standing.

”I'll inform your good first mate,” he said. ”Rest well, my friend.”

Then he was gone through the door, and Shay did not even have the energy to pull off his trousers or shirt: he was out within minutes, drifting into deep, undisturbed sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Woops. I made Shay more emo than the kid of Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and Kylo Ren would be.
> 
> Also, this is pretty patchy because I didn't proofread it enough. The story goes nowhere, really. But at least I know it, right? ...right? OTL


End file.
